


(Who) Am I (Free)?

by Jen425



Series: Greater Transgressions [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE CUDDLING!, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Shutdown, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Helplessness, Internalized Victim Blaming, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Rape, Mind Rape Recovery, Minor DormeDala, Multi, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Referenced VentresSoka and SteelaSoka, Romantic Cuddling, also Anakin just came out of a coma where his body started shutting down, referenced transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen425/pseuds/Jen425
Summary: Anakin struggles through his first week rescued.





	(Who) Am I (Free)?

**Author's Note:**

> THANK GOD STAR WARS WEEKS ARE ONLY FIVE DAYS!!!!!!
> 
> Please blame any discrepancies on Anakin’s fractured mental state.

When Anakin awakens, he admits to melting, first. It takes a moment for the memories to come back, and all he can focus on is his loved ones near. Then reality comes rushing back.

 

He panics. Again. Struggling.

 

But he can’t even struggle with any power whatsoever. He’s too weak and unfocused for anything.

 

So… he collapses, sobbing. Shaking.

 

No… what they had done to him… he can’t…

 

“Shhhhh, cyare,” Fives whispers gently from above him, stroking his hand through Anakin’s short hair. A bit longer, from the coma, he knows and conceptualizes from the cues Kelna left in his mind (that will be an issue, later), but…

 

The Council knew everything. He’d loved his longer hair partly because Padme and Fives had loved it and partly because it had helped him feel comfortable in himself. So even that tiny thing had been taken from him. Obi-Wan does the same. He can feel Dorme and Padme in the living room, Ahsoka in a guest room, and also… Kelna, Akemi, and Malii and xir entire clan?

 

He faintly wonders how many were affected, but he doesn’t have the strength to look for an answer.

 

He can feel it in Fives and Obi-Wan both, though. Heartbreak. Disgust. Not fully aimed at him, but it hurts.

 

Not that he can fight it.

 

He quivers in their grip. He doesn’t know what to do. All he can feel is his own fear.

 

“Look at me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. Helplessly, Anakin does. He doesn’t know what else to do, anymore. Listen to the Council. This is familiar. This is wrong.

 

He shifts and focuses his gaze on his Master, once an almost-affectionate term, in this one circumstance. Not after this. But he still trusts Obi-Wan.

 

Obi-Wan wasn’t involved. He knows Obi-Wan wasn’t involved.

 

Obi-Wan says something that Anakin misses. Anakin can’t even bring himself to ask for repetition because a small voice inside him wonders if he’s failed. He’s safe again and everything feels wrong and terrifying as his truth and what had been forced inside of him war against each other.

 

And some other nameless something is missing, as well.

 

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan says, clearly and obviously trying very hard not to sound like an order and he’s probably leaking his thoughts everywhere and that though alone sends him spiraling far too much to fix the problem.

 

Every second feels like fifty new traumas.

 

But they aren’t new, just memories.

 

Everything from his childhood to his partners.

 

Returned to him.

 

“What do you need, cyare?” Fives asks, finally getting through his haze. Anakin just burrows into his chest, scrabbling for purchase with lost coordination.

 

“Stay,” he says softly. “Please.”

 

And he drifts back into a shaky sleep just like that, held like glass as he shakes, love around him and hands gently running through his hair.

  
  


The second time Anakin wakes up, it’s night time, and he can distantly hear the sound of Coruscant Traffic through the window. He’s still (again?) in Fives’ arms, but now there is Padme asleep on his other side, hair laying in perfect waves even in sleep, and Dorme just past her on their giant bed. His Angel…

 

His stirring must wake them.

 

Padme’s perfect brown orbs meet his own probably-widened ones.

 

“Hello, Ani,” she says. Anakin smiles, curling closer to his husband simultaneously. He’s okay. He’s safe.

 

He thinks.

 

“Angel,” he rasps. Padme smiles in return.

 

“It’s good to have you home,” she says. Anakin just nods, and drifts to sleep once more.

  
  


The third time Anakin wakes up after he’s freed, he’s alone. And, not a second later, the door to the secondary closet starts to open. And Anakin still can’t even process his own brain, so he desperately uses the Force to push his body into a seated position, knees against his chest like they can protect him. And he knows where he is. Home. Padme’s bed that smells like her and her wives and feels like heaven to his broken form, but…  
  
He can still only bring himself to shake, even as the form exits the closet and is very clearly his wife, one of the loves of his life. But nothing is right, anymore. Anakin can’t even bring himself to whimper as Padme walks slowly closer.  
  
This fear is so irrational, but everything is still so wrong and he doesn’t know what to do.  
  
“It’s okay, Ani,” Padme says softly, arms raised up and out towards him, like she’s comforting a frightened animal. Isn’t that what he is, though? “It’s just me. Can I come closer?”  
  
Anakin nods. He doesn’t know if he can stop her without collapsing, so does it really matter? Padme smiles at him, softly. She’s always so beautiful, even as he can feel her guilt and her worry for him.  
  
Now that his limited connection to the moment is coming back, he can sense others close. And the Temple, far away. He shivers from more than the cold. He’s still in nothing but a hospital robe.  
  
Padme slides into the bed next to him, and he lets himself relax again, curling into her arms.  
  
“Tell me what you need, Ani,” she says. “I’m here for you, my love.”  
  
Anakin just snuggles closer as best he can. He needs a moment to calm, first.  
  
“‘Fresher,” he rasps. “Hungry, too.”  
  
Padme nods.  
  
“Okay, Ani,” she says. “Let me help you up?”  
  
Anakin nods. He feels so helpless.  
  
But it’s finally starting to sink in.  
  
He’s free.  
  


 

Anakin smiles as Dorme leaves with the tray, feeling her worry for him. He’s surprised, quite a bit. He’d been, helplessly, callous and cruel when the Council had ordered him to tell his spouses never to contact him again. And he hadn’t been there for the aftermath, but he knows it must have hurt.

 

He can still feel her residual anger, though. Not that it makes things better.

 

At least Padme didn’t cook. Truly, he loves his wife, but she’s set the kitchen on fire boiling water.

 

She had to leave for a Senate session, though, and Fives and Obi-Wan are trying to spread the word and get others out. Anakin sighs and sinks back down into the mattress once again. So much more comfortable than his bed at the Temple.

 

But, really, he does want to understand what’s going on. So, with a sigh, he shifts to look towards one of his only friends.

 

“Do you want me to explain more than what I left in your head?” Kelna asks. Anakin nods his head. He’s done a simple scan of his mindscape, and he knows that everything Kelna left was bright and bold on purpose, but the thought of Obi-Wan and Kelna ripping through his mind and reshaping it, even to save him, still makes him shiver.

 

Kelna nods.

 

“I blocked what felt like your most traumatic memories,” she says. “I didn’t look at anything, though, so they’re blocked in a way that they should crumble one by one and at random with any associated memories directly behind them for the next five months or so. The Council, from our best guesses, have done this to at least fifty Jedi. And we’re trying to get them away. I… Akemi… Malii… and some of her _younglings_ , even, they…”

 

Kelna looks down. Anakin’s completely overwhelmed, but at least he knows.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know that this is a lot to take in. Are you okay?”

 

Anakin shrugs, thoughts still whirring in five hundred different ways from what she’s told him.

 

“I’m comfortable,” he says. “Alive, too.”

 

Kelna nods.

 

“Good,” she says. “I… Anakin… do you need anything?”

 

She’s floundering. Everyone is floundering, inside. Anakin doesn’t know what to do. So he just flops down on the bed.

 

“I don’t know,” he says.

 

And they sit in silence for some time.

 

(Eventually, Kelna leaves to check on the others, especially Akemi and Malii. Anakin knows how much Kelna has struggled with and “overcome her attachment to” Malii. And Akemi was her student in the same way Ahsoka was his. He must admit, it is nice to have her close and safe again…

 

But, anyways. He forces himself to shield as she leaves, a crushing loneliness bearing down on him. He doesn’t calm until Ahsoka wanders in to sit with him. And when Fives returns. Then Obi-Wan. Then Padme.

 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers softly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Because this is, in some ways, all his own blasted fault.)

  
  


Day three might be the hardest. Anakin wakes up held gently in his husband’s arms and is immediately assaulted by memories.

 

The Council had called him up. He hadn’t said no. He’d helped, and he’d remembered the terror of the very first time. And he’d still done what he was supposed to.

 

And he’d still helped steal a good man’s soul.

 

The memory is so strong that he sobs inconsolably into Fives’ chest. He can’t help it. The memory consumes him. A distant part of him doesn’t know how many times he can survive this. Connected memories trickle in together, probably for healing, but there’s no healing for this, just falling to the floor and confusion. He forces himself to quiet, though.

 

He hates how useless this feels.

 

Fives just runs his fingers through Anakin’s hair until long after Anakin runs out of strength, only vaguely aware of the present.

 

_“I’m ready,” he says. He’s scared. Why is he scared? But he opens his shields nonetheless. Because he has to listen to the Council._

 

_Something’s wrong…_

 

_And then, in moments, he forgets once again._

 

Anakin shivers, he’s both warmer and more comfortable in the loose silk pants and cotton shirt Padme had helped him into the previous evening, but this shiver has nothing to do with how cold he always is and everything to do with the memories running through his head and leaving him unfocused and trembling in his husband’s arms. His husband. Force. He’d barely even had time for the decision to sink in before he’d forgotten why he’d done it.

 

Still, he calms all the more when the blankets are pulled up over his shoulders.

 

“I’m here, cyare,” Fives says. “Stay with me.”

 

Anakin nods, choking on his words like he isn’t even able to make the sound necessary to utter a quiet “okay”. Perhaps he isn’t. But he does calm. Fives sits with him in silence for some time more.

 

And, slowly, Anakin fully calms.

  
  


Anakin perks up a little as Obi-Wan comes in an hour or two later, relief clear in their bond. Padme’s back, too, and he’s still struggling to focus on the moment instead of the horrors of what he’d done and what had immediately been done to him (again), but it’s getting easier.

 

But he still isn’t ready for what Obi-Wan says.

 

“I have managed to contact Master Plo,” Obi-Wan says, unaware. But Anakin tenses, terror and disgust filling him. Please no. But Obi-Wan continues, obviously not noticing his response. Anakin had spent an hour yesterday restoring his shields, after all. _His_ , not ones made by others.

 

Everything still feels almost like a nightmare, and Anakin can’t even bring himself to react as Obi-Wan continues.

 

“The Wolfpack will be here with him in three hours,” his Master says. “Myself and Ahsoka are meeting them to release him from…”

 

The man trails off. A very distant part of Anakin feels for the now former member of the Council. He’d trusted and believed in the Jedi despite the ways they had treated him. And then… this.

 

Obi-Wan keeps going after that, of course. Padme and Fives say things, too. But any focus he had regained in the past few hours is gone, now. He doesn’t know how long it is before Padme is shaking him.

 

“Ani,” she says, worried. Anakin turns to her, and he’s sure that he must look even more haunted than he’d looked in the mirror, yesterday. Because this is something else. “What’s wrong, my love?”

 

Anakin gapes like a fish, opening and closing his mouth, but no sound comes out. He can’t even begin to form the words to match the thoughts and memories rushing through his head. And that only terrifies him all the more and he’s _sobbing_ again, still helplessly without control of his own mind. Fives curls him closer and Padme runs her hands down her back and even Obi-Wan gently holds his mind, no attempt whatsoever to prod or push forwards, and it’s still too much and not enough and Anakin doesn’t know what to _do_.

 

So he panics. And he instantly regrets it. Just enough of his brain cushions them, but he sends them flying, nonetheless. He freezes, tears on his face, but completely silent. Then he collapses, curling into a ball. Someone approaches him, but he curls himself tighter into himself.

 

Again, he can’t get the words out. To ask them to get away from him because he really is worthless, isn’t he?

 

But, blessedly and horribly, they leave.

  
  


Nobody returns for some time, and Anakin is glad. He can’t believe he’d just… to Fives, to his Angel, to Obi-Wan…

 

He’s a horrible person, and he’s broken, to boot.

 

And at least three hours must pass, because he feels Plo’s presence grow closer and closer.

 

And closer.

 

Towards his door.

 

Is the Kel Dor angry, Anakin finds himself wondering. He himself is. He’s broken and lonely terrified and still so kriffing _angry_ at the Council.

 

Wow. Okay. He hadn’t even thought that until now. But he doesn’t know what to think because maybe the Council was right about him and he almost _hurt_ them—

 

The door opens. Anakin doesn’t even bother looking up because he knows who it is.

 

“Skywalker.”

 

It’s Plo.

 

And Anakin, once again, finds himself unable to respond. Plo, from what he can tell, is hurt in his own right, but…

 

Force. Anakin has no idea what he’s even thinking, where he’s going with all of this. All he can focus on is the people he hurt.

 

“Skywalker, look at me,” the Master continues. “Or I will not go.”

 

Anakin forces himself to curl out of his ball and look up. Plo is here for a reason, and, even if that reason could be to hurt him, in some way, he wouldn’t fight back.

 

For one, he doesn’t have the strength to. For two, he doesn’t have the right to.

 

“Obi-Wan told me what happened,” Plo says. “And call me vain, but I think I know why.”

 

Anakin looks down, unable to meet Plo’s eyes.

 

“I do not blame you, nor do they,” the Master continues. “And you worry Little Soka.”

 

Anakin can’t even begin to try and control the silent tears that drip down his cheeks.

 

And, with that, the Master leaves.

  
  


Somehow, Anakin’s weakened body mixed with his lack of stimuli has him drifting off to sleep. When he wakes up, it’s night again. And Padme and Dorme are there as well. He forces himself to be still. But… it’s still too much and not enough all at once, so he crawls his way to the edge of the bed, cushion his fall with the Force, and falls asleep on the floor like that, instead.

 

The next morning, however, he’s alone again and back in bed. There’s a hover chair floating there alongside a plate of some simple foods and water and a comm.

 

And a handwritten note.

 

_Hey Anakin. Comm us if you need anything. I’ll have to come in around 1200._

 

_~K_

 

Anakin sighs, but grabs the food and eats it ravenously. He hadn’t eaten yesterday, after all.

 

Force. He still can’t believe any of it. He wants everyone to not be let near him after what he’s done. And even what he did, yesterday.

 

But he’s stuck here.

 

So he sighs, leans back onto the bed, and contemplates his next move.

  
  


Anakin sits up calmly on the bed like he isn’t now eternally close to collapse. Has it really only been four days?

 

He still tenses, however, as the door opens on his friend. Kelna looks exhausted and deeply horrified, and Anakin is reminded that all of this has hurt others, too, and Kelna is almost solely in charge of putting things back together.

 

“Hey, Anakin,” she says. “Can I come in?”

 

Anakin shrugs, and Kelna comes over and sits at the foot of the bed.

 

“Artoo flew in late last night,” she says. “With Threepio and approximately a legion of mouse droids and reprogrammed battle droids.”

 

Anakin laughs, at that. Of course Artoo has been busy since Anakin had been sent to wipe him and his droid had had to run.

 

“Which _means_ ,” Kelna continues. “That I have a blueprint of your arm. And Force knows if you got to update it since then, so, hopefully, you won’t break it trying to ‘make it better’, even if we will have to make some temporary adjustments.”

 

Anakin huffs. He’d only broken it ten times!

 

(He ignores the first and last parts of the sentence for the sake of his own sanity.)

 

Still…

 

He doesn’t trust himself. Not with anything. So he finally breaks through his own outward silence.

 

“I don’t want it,” he says, brokenly.

 

“What?”

 

Anakin just shakes his head.

 

“I don’t… I can’t trust myself,” he says. “Not…”

 

He trails off, unable to continue. Kelna sighs.

 

“Anakin…”

 

Anakin just shakes his head again. He’s too tired to cry. Kelna moves forwards until Anakin somehow finds himself shaking with his head on her shoulder. Her presence hovers gently and hesitantly over the edge of his mind, and Anakin leans into all of it.

 

And then he pulls away.

 

Kelna has other people who need her support.

 

“You have more important things to take care of, Kelna,” he says. Then, hesitantly. “…Artoo can come in later, if he wants. And… maybe everyone else.”

 

Kelna nods.

 

“Of course.”

  
  


Anakin feels Ahsoka’s presence before she enters the room and he is… almost happy about it. Emotion takes more mental strength than he really has, right now.

 

“I thought Artoo was coming,” he says, jokingly. He wonders if the sarcasm can be felt when his ability to process emotion is essentially gone. Any strength he’d had had died when he’d let himself go for even a moment with Kelna.

 

But maybe, if he tries hard enough, his old methods of sarcasm and denial might hold him up, for now.

 

Not healthy, but who really cares?

 

And it almost brings a smile to Ahsoka’s face.

 

(She looks so _different,_ now. She’s an adult, very clearly, and probably taller than him. And she just looks so… tired. Force, but, he had worried for her, too, even as it had hurt so deeply to lose her…

 

And then it had all been taken from him.)

 

“Hi, Master,” she says. Anakin winces.

 

“Please don’t call me that,” he says. “I’m not…”

 

He sighs.

 

“Hi, Snips. I’ve missed you.”

 

Ahsoka just looks down.

 

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” she asks. “They did this because I left, and you… it was a _joke,_ but it _isn’t_ …”

 

Anakin just sighs, again. And he forces himself to act almost functional because Ahsoka is still his Padawan, in his mind.

 

He wishes that he’d gone with her. It’s not her fault, it’s his, and he hates himself for it.

 

“It was the… It wasn’t your fault, Ahsoka,” he says. “Now, come here.”

 

Before he even knows what’s happening, he has an armful of crying former Padawan. And, after his initial flash of panic because confusion had been _terror_ , one clear, horrid moment, not so long ago, Anakin wraps his arm around her.

 

“I’m _sorry,_ ” she says. Anakin just lets her cry, holding her gently.

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

She’s heavy, but Anakin doesn’t really care because the growing uncomfortableness of the position helps ground him. His thoughts and memories whirl as much as they have since he’d first woken up, but at least he has something to focus on besides himself, for the moment.

 

Her emotions, on the other hand… slightly overwhelm his still-healing mind.

 

But it is a relief when she moves, about fifteen minutes later. Anakin forces himself to smile at her.

 

“Now, Snips,” he says. “Tell me, what fun have you had without me.”

 

Ahsoka chokes on a laugh.

 

“A lot,” she says.

 

And Anakin can simply sit back and absorb the woman his Padawan has become.

 

Without him.

 

(And he _does_ absorb. But he saves the teasing and worry for later, when he has the strength for it. Ahsoka can take care of herself. But…

 

The Onderon girl, Gerrera he can understand, but Ventress? Really?)

  
  


Artoo wheels in not long after Ahsoka leaves.

 

“[I knew there was something wrong with your code,]” he beeps. “[Some new virus or… something. I didn’t expect so much reprogramming, though. Idiot.]”

 

Anakin just shrugs and melts back into the bed. It had taken more out of his weak mental strength than he’d thought, to talk with Ahsoka for that long.

 

“The Council,” he says. And then he goes quiet, needing a second to collect his thoughts and ride the wave of fear even the word fills him with.

 

“[Do you need to recharge, Anakin-Skywalker?]” Artoo asks. Anakin sighs.

 

“Yes,” he says. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Artoo beeps an affirmative.

 

“[I will see you tomorrow.]”

  
  


Anakin does manage a nap, and, when he wakes up, he finds himself curled up right in a sleeping Fives’ arms, the position slightly uncomfortable, but unbelievably comforting.

 

The thing is, though…

 

Again, it’s too much and less than he deserves. It’s perfect and it’s safe and it makes him feel _stronger_ , but… he shifts. Squirms. Tries not to wake his husband but also to get away. He fails.

 

“Cyare?”

 

Anakin goes back to pushing himself away.

 

“Please,” he whispers. “I don’t…”

 

Fives just sighs.

 

“Oh cyare…” he says. “What do you need?”

 

Anakin just… goes limp.

 

“I don’t know,” he says. Fives pulls them both up to sitting, and Anakin slumps against him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

 

Fives just shushes him.

 

“It’s okay, Anakin,” he says. “I forgive you.”

 

Anakin nods.

 

“I love you,” he says. “It was just… too much. A lot of too much.”

 

“You want to talk about it, Anakin?”

 

Anakin just shakes his head. Not yet. It hurts too much.

 

They’d made him _help_.

 

Fives just sighs.

 

“Okay,” he says. “That’s okay. We can just stay here.”

 

Anakin nods. Okay. This is okay. Still a bit too much, but it’s safe. And he lets himself just lay there, shaking  for hours on end. It is nice to be held.

  
  


When Padme comes in, later, as the light fades, Anakin sighs. Okay. He can do this. Talking to her, apologizing and getting forgiveness like he hadn’t almost _hurt_ her, her and Fives and Obi-Wan all, is the easy part, somehow.

 

It’s harder explaining what he wants.

 

It’s… too much, when they’re too near, not that he deserves having them, worthless as he feels. Worthless as he _is_ . New memories came in his sleep of pain and not even a moment to fight _back_ with _any_ force, and he doesn’t even care because he’d expected as much.

 

But alone he feels like he’s dying.

 

So when they get to the question of why he was on the floor the previous night, it starts easy. He just shrugs.

 

“Too much,” he says.

 

“Do you want to sleep in another room?” Padme asks. Anakin thinks about it, but… no. He feels better like this.

 

He shakes his head.

 

“Near.” He says. Near is good. The floor was just what he deserves. He snuggles himself closer to Fives’ chest as best he can as he feels Padme run her fingers through his hair.

 

He doesn’t remember going to sleep. All he remembers is love.

  
  


Anakin wakes up alone, but he can still feel everyone nearby, so the panic is brief. He curls himself into a ball, sighing. The guilt still weighs on his mind, but it’s calmed. He takes a moment to finally feel.

 

He’s… broken. And he knows it. He’s scared, and he’s tired, but… he’s happy, too. He’s happy because he feels everyone nearby.

 

He’s lonely, too. Like an ache or a hunger inside of him.

 

And gross. Really gross. Padme’s gloriously large tub and _water_ , still amazing him in its commonness to most of the Galaxy, sounds like a really good idea.

 

Just then, Obi-Wan enters the room. Anakin scrambles to push himself up to seated.

 

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan says. Gently. Hesitantly. Anakin just reaches his arm out, sighing as he leans into Obi-Wan’s chest. “Oh dear one, can I ever make up for not knowing?”

 

Anakin sighs.

 

“You don’t need to,” he says. “They hurt you, too. I see it. When they call you Bi-Sen.”

 

Anakin feels Obi-Wan mentally wince at the name.

 

“A name by any standards is a trivial attachment,” Obi-Wan says. “Nothing in comparison to what has been done to you.”

 

Anakin just sighs again, he doesn’t have the energy to fight Obi-Wan on this, today.

 

“To you,” he says. Then, “Master, I—”

 

“Do not call me Master, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts. “Not now.”

 

Anakin just curls against him.

 

“Okay,” he says. Then “help me?”

  
  


Anakin sighs as he slips into the steaming water. Just to the side of too hot, but it holds him, grounds him.

 

Obi-Wan immediately leaves the room after helping him, and Anakin feels him sit to meditate on the bed, right outside. Anakin thinks it’s ridiculous, in a way. It’s not like they’ve never had to bathe near each other. Though it probably has something to do with Obi-Wan’s own insecurities.

 

Maybe the name was a low blow.

 

Anakin isn’t surprised when it’s Padme who walks in a few minutes later, though. He just smiles and lets her help him, not bothering with words because they’re too much work, right now. Obi-Wan had been necessary, but yesterday had just been so much work.

 

But it’s so nice to just focus on the warm water and Padme’s touch. It seems like forever and no time at all that the water starts getting cold and Anakin finds himself back in some of the most comfortable clothes Padme had gotten him. They’re so loose, now, but he feels clean at least on the outside for the first time since waking up.

 

Anakin lets out a cry as Padme slips off the bed.

 

“I have to go now, love,” she says.

 

“Please?” Anakin asks. He doesn’t want to be alone, not after having people here has felt like a piece of candy and a hug all at once.

 

But Padme just shakes her head.

 

“I’m sorry, Ani,” she says. Anakin just sighs.

 

“It’s okay,” he says. “Don’t upset anyone into sending assassins. I can’t…”

 

Padme sighs.

 

“Okay Ani,” she says. “Goodbye.”

 

Anakin nods, and she leaves.

 

And all of Anakin’s energy seems to immediately wilts away.

  
  


Artoo comes in later and somehow convinces Anakin to crumple to the ground and help him with tune ups that take most of his energy, but leave him strangely satisfied.

 

He hasn’t has the chance to do something he cares about in months.

 

Then Obi-Wan comes back in, scolding him for recklessness as he helps Anakin back in the bed like he himself wouldn’t be trying to do even more in Anakin’s state.

 

And they continue their talk from earlier. Obi-Wan is still struggling to see how much the Council had hurt him, and Anakin knows that change won’t come in a day, but he can see how much Obi-Wan cares about him.

 

And at least Obi-Wan’s stopped blaming himself.

 

He also catches up with Ahsoka, and Kelna brings him the simple fake arm. He still…

 

This day has been a lot, and he still doesn’t trust himself. A mech arm could actually hurt someone.

 

What if he can’t think again and he lashes out and…

 

It tingles, like a forgotten memory.

 

And then Anakin does remember.

 

Mortis.

 

The Council had even seen that.

 

And he’s alone, at the time, but now he’s sure.

 

He wants to be weak until his mind recovers. But it’ll never recover.

 

Is this an internal trap? Yes. But he doesn’t care.

 

And he locks it away where nobody can see.

 

The less they worry, the better. He’s still worthless, after all.

  
  


When everyone gets home that night, they all make it into the room.

 

They even put on a holo.

 

But it isn’t until the middle of the night, while Anakin lays frozen and scared from too many people near him, that he realizes.

 

It’s been a week. He’s been free for a week.

 

And that’s enough to calm him.

 

And he drifts to sleep safe and loved.

 

And free.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you cried!


End file.
